Maximum DC Universe: Batman
by vadershelmet
Summary: The first in the series of srories thar make up my DC universe. Adapted from the various Batman stories out there. Reviews are welcome. Rated T for Batman being who he is. Let's just say that this ain't the 1960's anymore.
1. Chapter 1: In The Beginning

**Welcome all to my first DC fanfic. As you can tell by the title, this one tells the tale of Batman. This isn't among the Batman fics because this will tie in to other future stories, such as Superman and Justice League. The story will focus on Bruce Wayne at first, then to the early adventures of Batman and his encounters with his various foes. Enjoy! **

Chapter One- It is the year 1988. A heavy February snow falls outside stately Wayne Manor. Martha Wayne, the wife of wealthy physician Thomas Wayne, is about to give birth to a baby boy. His name will be Bruce.

"Come on dear, only a little more. He's almost out. It's almost over." said Dr. Leslie Thompkins. Leslie had been a college friend of Thomas Wayne, and had readily agreed to help her friend avoid the throngs of paparazzi that would surely congregate outside Gotham General Hospital. Just because Wayne Enterprises had been handed over to the board of directors didn't mean that the Wayne name suffered any loss in fame. After an agonizing two hours of screaming from Martha and prayers from the others, the infant Bruce Alan Wayne was wrapped up in a blanket, safe in his mother's arms. "Look at him, Thomas. Look what you did." she said. "What _we _did." Thomas corrected her, looking fondly at his newborn son. "I believe he has great things ahead of him, dear. Great things." He then sat down beside her, equally captivated by the baby. If Thomas and Martha Wayne had known that their happy life would come to an end in eight years, they wouldn't regret a single moment.

Eight year-old Bruce Wayne dashed from Finger Elementary School immediately at the sound of the bell. His sprint led him to the 1997 Mercedes idling in the parking lot. Bruce leapt into the back seat, nearly crushing the other occupant of the back. "Hey! You coulda killed me!" shouted young Rachael Dawes. She slugged Bruce in the arm, which led to a bout of wrestling. "Settle down, settle down." said the voice of Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne family butler. "The place for games is outside, not in the back of your father's car." Alfred said to Bruce. "_One _of Dad's cars." Bruce countered. "He has, like, a zillion cars that were way more expensive than this one." Not wanting to be pulled into one of the young master's favorite pastimes, arguments, Alfred conceded the point. The rest of the ride was relatively quiet, the only noise coming from the children's small talk. Something Bruce said caused Rachael to giggle. Alfred looked back, just to make sure there weren't any shenanigans going on. Now both children were laughing, which caused Alfred to smile. While he was initially unsure about the elder Wayne's decision to have Bruce publicly schooled, he had to admit that it couldn't have worked out better. After his first day of kindergarten, little Bruce never stopped talking about his new friend Rachael and how great she was. Thomas and Martha had eventually met with Catherine Dawes, and discovered that she was a gardener looking for work. They quickly brought her on as the groundskeeper of the Wayne estate, where she and Rachael soon lived. Bruce and Rachael had grown closer, becoming the best of friends. _And maybe later, something more, _Alfred mused. They soon arrived in the driveway and entered the house, where Martha waited for the children with two cups of steaming hot chocolate. Unlike many wealthy families, the Waynes cared for everyone around them. They treated their employees well, and Alfred loved them like his own family. Thomas then entered the room, taking a sip of his son's cocoa, much to the boy's mock dismay. Thomas help up three tickets for _Mefistofile_. Upon seeing them, Bruce groaned. "Why can't we just stay home and watch TV like normal people?" he said. "Because little boys like you need a little exposure to culture now and then. God forbid you become a garbage collector or something." His mother said with a smile. "Now, go on and play. The outdoors are good for you as well." added Thomas. Without another word, the children scampered outside for an afternoon game of tag. Thomas then went up to his bedroom, and unlocked a drawer in his bedside table. Taking out a small box, he put on his glasses and opened it. Inside was the finest pearl necklace he had ever laid eyes on. It was a gift that he and Bruce had selected for Martha the other day. He imagined how beautiful they would look the night of the opera. _Perfection._


	2. Chapter 2: A Walk in Park Row

Chapter Two- The Monarch Theatre was located in the heart of Gotham City. Cars surrounded the building like moths to a light bulb. The well-to do were out in full force tonight. Bruce took in all of the sights; the fancy jewelry, the immaculately dressed couples, and the valets scurrying from car to car. Thomas led his family to their seats, doing his best to avoid the reporters hunting for the rich and famous like lions. "Oh, you both look so handsome." Martha said as they took their seats. "You don't look so bad yourself, sweetheart." Thomas said, motioning to the string of pearls around her neck. Before they could say anymore, the speakers called for quiet. _Here we go again, _thought Bruce. He would rather be at home watching his favorite show, _The Gray Ghost_, than sitting in some dumb old theatre. As the performance began, Bruce begged for a performer to literally break their leg and halt the show. With a sigh, he leaned against his mother, not knowing this would be the last time he ever did so.

Where he had been bored before, Bruce now sat rigid, his eyes wide with fear. _They _were here. Even at a place ordinarily shining with light, the creatures of the night had followed him here. They were pouring from everywhere; from the ceiling, under the floor, even from the cardboard forest. As he tried to avert his eyes, Bruce was pulled back, back to where the demons had first haunted him.

_Bruce and Rachael ran through the garden outside Wayne Manor. School had let out the day before, and the children wanted to spend every waking moment outdoors. After all, warm weather was only around for so long in Connecticut. Bruce was running, knowing Rachael couldn't possibly know where he was. He was a master at hide and seek. As he continued running, the boy failed to notice the boarded-up spot in the ground before him. His father had once showed him the old well, and Bruce should have known where it was. At the moment, he didn't. Before he could react, Bruce's feet went from hard ground to open air. It took him a few moments to realize he was falling. When he did, he couldn't even cry out. His feet slammed into cold, rocky ground, and the rest of his body soon followed. He moaned, the pain reassuring him that he was indeed alive. He sat up, and the sharp pain he felt reminded him not to move again. Then he heard them. It was a small screech at first, barely audible. Then louder. And louder. And then, a rushing mass of black creatures swarmed from some unseen cave, enveloping the terrified Bruce. He dove on the ground and screamed for what seemed like hours. And then there was silence. "Bruce." he heard. Unsure if it was real or a hallucination, Bruce looked up. A shadow was coming towards him. "Bruce" the shadow said again, "don't worry son. I've got you. Everything will be alright." Bruce then saw the outstretched arm of his father. Grabbing it, he was hoisted up, back to the light where Alfred and his mother were waiting. _

Bruce's eyes snapped open. He was in the theatre. His parents were still watching the show, having failed to notice their son's plight. Desperately, Bruce turned to his father. "Can we go now? Please?" Thomas saw the panic on his son's face, and realized what was going on. He tapped Martha on the shoulder and gestured towards the door. She also understood, and the trio exited quietly. They appeared in an alley behind the theatre. They walked forward slowly, giving Bruce time to calm down. Just as they neared the street, a man approached them. His hair was unkempt and his face unshaven. His clothes were torn and ragged, and he smelled of alcohol. Then he brandished a gun. "We'll start with the pretty pearls around the lady's neck." he said, the gun trembling in his hands. "Let's just calm down." Thomas said, moving in front of his terrified wife. He moved to fast for the mugger. A single shot ran out. Then a scream. Then another shot, followed by the clatter of pearls on cement. Then silence.

**And so a child is orphaned. Next chapter, we'll see the aftermath of the murders and Bruce's decision to leave Gotham. It's now 1996, and Bruce is 8. He'll stick around for another 8 years, then take a little journey. On a side note, I put Gotham in Connecticut because that's where it is in Young Justice. Update will be forthcoming.**


	3. Chapter 3: Lifeless

**So, after checking the traffic stats, I wondered why people weren't taking much interest in this. Here, Chapter 2 was placed here by mistake. It's from my other story. The correct chapter is now up and running. I apologize if I gave anyone a headache after reading. Anyway, here's Chapter 3. **

Chapter Three- It was a rainy day in Gotham. The city was no stranger to rain, lying on the coast of Connecticut. But today, the rain seemed to reflect the mood of the city. Dark, dreary, depressing. Bruce Wayne stood in front of his parents' graves, staring blankly at the two roses that he had placed there moments earlier. A shiver ran through him, even though it was disgustingly humid outside. He felt a hand rest upon his shoulder. He looked up and saw Alfred, his face ashen. The Waynes had been as much as a family to him as any. And now there was only one of them left. A scared, lost, grieving young boy. "We best get going, Master Bruce." he said, gently pushing the boy towards the car. _That's right. I am the master of the house now. A big, ugly, empty house, _Bruce thought. As he sat down in his seat, he saw Rachael. She waved shyly, smiling. She was trying to make him feel better. He waved back, and their eyes remained locked until the car peeled away.

Bruce sat in silence on the couch, barely paying attention to the TV. His mother had said it would be good for him to see some culture. And that culture had gotten her and his father killed. No, that wasn't it. It was him. His fear had made the mugger's job easy. _My fault. My fault. My fault._ The words ran through his head over and over again. He didn't even hear the doorbell ring. Didn't see Alfred and the police officers talking. "Hello. I'm Lieutenant Gordon, GCPD. This is Officer Bullock. May we come in?" he said neutrally. "Of course." Alfred said. Bruce peered at them from the chair. His father's chair. The one called Gordon was tall, with red hair and glasses. He had a kind face, and smiled at Bruce when he saw him. The other guy was short, heavy, and had a face like a bulldog. Unlike Gordon, he just scowled. The lieutenant sat down across from Bruce, who was joined by Alfred. "We have some good news for you. We got him." After the lack of response, he continued. "Joseph Chilton, alias Joe Chill. Thirty-four years old, lives out of his car. We picked him up after he tried to take a McDonald's full of cops. The gun he had matched the one from the…incident." Bruce could tell Gordon was finished. "Hey, perk up, kid." Bullock said. "Justice has been served. That punk's goin' away for a long time." Gordon glared at the officer. "If you need anything else, just call the station." With that, they stood up and left. Alfred gave Bruce a concerned look. He knew that Chill's arrest was of little consolation. Having lost his own mother during a shootout between rival gangs, he knew some of what the youngster was going through. But to lose both parents… "Is there anything you require, sir?" Alfred asked, hoping for some sign of life in the boy's eyes. "No, Alfred. Nothing at all."

**Please review! **


	4. Chapter 4: The Lonely Road

Chapter Four- _University of Connecticut, 2007. _Bruce Wayne stood by the waiting limo, quietly saying his goodbyes to the only friend he had here. "You sure you don't wanna stay another semester? I'd hate to have to find a new roommate." said Harvey Dent. "I'm sure, man. The whole 'school' thing isn't for me." After high school, Alfred had barely succeeded in convincing his young master to attend college. But after only a year, Bruce had decided to move on. "Well, good luck Bruce. If you ever come back to Gotham, you know where to find me." "Yeah Harv, I know. Gotham City prosecutor's office." They shook hands, and Bruce stepped in to the waiting car.

"I brought your packed bags as you requested, sir. We're going to Bradley airport, I presume?" "Yes, Alfred. It's time I step out of my father's shadow and see the world for myself." Alfred had known Bruce would want to leave, even though Alfred had disagreed. Bruce was a young man filled with rage and resentment towards the world. He couldn't possibly make it out there alone…could he? From what he had heard his young master say, Bruce was going to some of the dirtiest, crime-ridden filth holes in the world. All of the danger just to satisfy his thirst for revenge.

Before Alfred knew it, they had arrived. "Alfred, I know you don't agree with my decision to leave. But I want you to know to know that you've been as much a father to me as my own." "Goodbye, Master Bruce." They embraced, and Alfred struggled to hold back tears. Was he insane? Letting this child, this boy, go off into the cold, cruel, unmerciful world? Bruce got out, took his bags from the trunk, and entered the airport. He needed the skills to find his parents' killer. He knew where to find them. And he knew that when he returned to Gotham, all the criminals would find their lives transformed into Hell on Earth. _"Flight 697 for Paris departs in one hour…"_


	5. Chapter 5: City of Hate, City of Love

Chapter Five- Captain James Gordon wasn't happy. He had to deal with raising a daughter in this hellhole of a city, the nearly constant string of homicides plaguing the East End, and above all, the corruption that was rife in the city. Most of the GCPD was already being bribed, blackmailed, or downright threatened into serving the politicians, not the people who desperately needed help. Barbara always asked why he couldn't just arrest "the bad guys" and call it a day. He didn't tell her that both their lives depended on his silence, on his subservience. Once, he had resisted, he had fought back, and it had cost him dearly. Sarah Essen Gordon had been killed during a "gang incident", according to official reports. Problem was, nothing that came out of any Gothamite's mouth could be trusted. The captain knew this, and had kept his mouth shut ever since. It made him sick thinking about it. One day, he would tell Barbara everything. Maybe when she came home for spring break? His thoughts were interrupted when the radio crackled.

"Units 14 and 21, respond to possible double homicide at Cape Carmine, over." Gordon sighed as he turned on his sirens. It was going to be a long night.

Paris certainly was much worse than Bruce had imagined. The movies had always made the city seem beautiful and majestic, filled with the aromas of fine wine and freshly baked bread. In reality, it was just as bad as any other city. The masked man fleeing the sound of sirens and alarms was testament to that. _You can take the boy out of the city… _Bruce thought.

"Stay focused." said the voice of Henri Ducard. "This man has robbed ten stores and killed three people. We'll get quite a few euros for this one, I can assure you." Bruce looked over in disgust.

"That's what it's all about? Money?"

"Of course." Ducard said, as if it was completely obvious. "Why catch a man for free, when the government will pay? For a university boy, you sure ask a lot of questions. I suppose what they say about Americans is true." he said, smiling. Bruce wasn't going to tolerate anymore, so he stood up, getting a clear view of the surrounding rooftops, and one man quickly ascending a fire escape. Without another word, Bruce leapt from Ducard's vantage point and on to an adjacent building. Ducard may have been a rude, greedy asshole, but he wasted no time in training his student. Bruce was gaining on the thief, who was too preoccupied to notice. With a final burst of strength, Bruce jumped… and missed. He plummeted down into an alley, a dumpster full of garbage breaking his fall. He groaned, more in annoyance than pain. He could hear Ducard laughing in his earpiece, and then a loud bang which reverberated through the streets. _No no no no no. _This was all getting out of hand very fast. By the time Bruce arrived, the thief was dead and Ducard was calling the kill in.

"We were supposed to bring him in alive." Bruce said angrily.

"So what? I'm still getting paid, and so are you."

Bruce ignored him, his eyes locked on the body. The sniper rifle had done its job perfectly. Blood slowly pooled around the man's head. _Blood mixed with dirty water and the most beautiful set of pearls._

"I'm done."

"What's the matter, kid? Afraid of a little blood?" Ducard said, his tone almost mocking.

"You're not who I need. I don't want to kill people." Bruce walked out of the alley, and stopped on the sidewalk. "Keep the cash. I've got plenty."

**I retitled the story so it connects to my later fics. Comments are appreciated.**


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